verbatim
by FantasyAmazon
Summary: "This is incredible," Jason says from beside Tim. He almost sounds like he's in awe. "Are you seriously casing the Batcave? Like, right in front of us?"


"So let me get this straight," Tim says. "You were raised by Harley and Ivy?"

"Ye-_p_," the other Dick says, looking around the cave. He moves from one side of it to the other with grace, poking at weapons and trinkets alike with a casualness that is nothing but feigned.

"This is incredible," Jason says from beside Tim. He almost sounds like he's in awe. "Are you seriously casing the Batcave? Like, right in front of us?"

"If not actively stealing," Tim says, eyeing Dick up and down. He's in street clothes, just a plain t-shirt and jeans, but Tim's seen Dick hide more in less.

"You two are so paranoid. Aren't I the nice brother in this dimension?" Dick asks, fiddling with a batarang. "Can't I be the nice not-brother from a different one?"

Tim gives him a flat look. "Taking into account who raised you, no."

Dick puts a hand to his chest. He doesn't put down the weapon. "I'm hurt. Wounded, even."

"No, but you will be if you don't put it down," Jason says, his tone bright. His hand goes up to rest on his hip, right above the holster of his gun; a not-so-thinly veiled threat.

Dick's cheer doesn't crack. He sets down the batarang with a deliberate clack. "Better?"

"So much."

"He already has one in his pocket," Damian pipes up from the computer. "He took it while you two idiots were arguing earlier. You didn't notice, Drake? He was standing right next to you."

He looks over his shoulder, a little too smug for the situation. Tim bristles and opens his mouth to retort, but Jason cuts him off.

"No names. You decided not to say anything then?"

Damian rolls his eyes. "He already knows who we are, Todd. Besides, he needs us. We're his only chance at getting home."

"That doesn't mean we have to be thrilled about him walking around, uncuffed, with a weapon," Tim says.

Jason crosses his arms. "Don't look at me. He picked the lock to his cell, and trying to get cuffs on him is like trying to hold hands with a snake."

Damian makes a disgusted sound. "That was horrible. Your metaphors are horrible."

"That was technically a simile," Jason says.

"Snakes don't even _have hands_," Damian says.

Jason feigns shock. "You don't say."

"I'm harmless," Dick says, following Tim's lead and ignoring them both.

He frowns. "Stealing weapons isn't harmless."

"I'm mostly harmless," Dick amends, pulling it out of his pocket. "I just wanted a souvenir. Something pointy to show the folks when I get home. I'll put it back."

He sets it on the table, then makes a show of dusting off his hands.

A sudden ping from the computer rings across the room. Tim watches Damian turn, scan the screen intently, then whirl around.

"Oracle says he took the explosive gel," he says, pointing.

Tim rounds on Dick, who sheepishly puts his hands up as Tim reaches into his other pocket. He pulls out a laser torch. Tim feels a headache start to come on.

"Oh my god," Jason says. "Why are you like this?"

Dick shrugs. "It's like a little lightsaber. And it glows pink."

"What else did you take?" Tim grinds out.

"Nothing else," he says. He gives Tim a toothy smile. "Cross my heart and hope to fly."

For a moment, he hesitates. It's ridiculous, he knows, but it's hard not to trust a stranger wearing Dick's face. Especially one who smiles like Dick and uses the same dorky phrases that he likes. But then the other Dick's smile ticks just a bit higher into a self-satisfied little smirk, just for a second, and the realization that he's being played hits Tim like a whip.

The annoyance comes back in a rush, deeper this time, and just a bit more vicious.

"Right," Tim says, and starts to frisk him.

Five grenades, two more batarangs, an escra stick, a ten dollar bill, and a lockpicking kit later, he finds the explosive gel tucked neatly into Dick's waistband, right at the base of his spine.

"I'm almost impressed," Jason says, eyeing the little pile.

Dick pouts. "Only almost? Do you know how hard it was to hide this stuff in skinny jeans?"

"Nope. Don't really care, either." Jason bends down and takes the cash. "Yoink."

"Hey! That was actually mine."

"And now it's mine."

Dick turns sullenly to Tim.

"Stop it with the eyes," Tim says. "I'm not fighting Jason to get back ten dollars after you tried to rob us. Speaking of which - "

Tim drags a chair to the middle of the cave, out of arm's reach of anything and everything valuable. He points at it. "Sit."

Dick hesitates. When Tim doesn't budge, he sighs and takes a seat. "Want me to bark now? Roll over?"

"That would actually be amazing," Jason says. He looks at Tim, ignoring Dick's glower. "Should I get a camera?"

"If you do, Todd, I'll beat you over the head with it," Damian says, not turning away from the screen. How he makes their own names sound like insults, Tim will never understand.

"I'd love to see you try to reach my head, shortstack."

Damian's shoulders tense. Tim changes the subject quickly. "Any luck contacting Batman?"

"No," Damian says. He looks over his shoulder, just enough for Tim to see the frustration in the set of his jaw. "Oracle is still trying to patch through to his comms, but it doesn't seem to be picking up the signal. His tracker is still offline as well. It's… concerning."

"He could've been switched too," Jason suggests. "We had to dig Dickhead out of the rubble - maybe he woke up before we got there, and cut n' ran."

"Waking up in a different Gotham with a different set of capes," Tim muses, "Leaving to gather intel would've been the smartest thing to do. And it explains why he hasn't answered his comms; his is probably on an entirely different frequency."

Not to mention the fact that their Gotham has been rebuilt ten times over or that the cave might not even be in the same place. It feels strange to say, but he adds: "Maybe he got lost trying to find the cave."

"But the Batcave in my universe is in the same place," Dick pipes up. "Underneath Wayne Manor, right?"

Tim freezes, but it's too late to argue. Dick takes in each of their faces in turn, then nods, clearly satisfied. "He should have been back by now."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm not sure if I'm going to write another chapter for this or leave it open ended, but I had a lot of fun writing it.


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